


Mistletoe and Crime

by HannibabestheCannibabes



Category: Whitechapel (TV)
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Crime, Crushes, Feelings Realization, First Kiss, Love, M/M, Murder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-27
Updated: 2017-12-27
Packaged: 2019-02-22 15:16:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13169610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HannibabestheCannibabes/pseuds/HannibabestheCannibabes
Summary: As the team investigates a serial killer using Christmas ornaments to murder, Kent and Chandler grow close.





	Mistletoe and Crime

**Mistletoe and Crime**

‘This is getting ridiculous now,’ Miles grumbled, staring down at the body on the slab in front of him. ‘Can you even be strangled with tinsel?’

It was a Tuesday morning, one week before Christmas day, and the team was stood in the morgue with the latest of their victims out on the table. At Miles’ complaint, Chandler gave a small cough as if to quieten him, and he nodded apologetically to Llewellyn, still waiting patiently having just been interrupted.

‘Admittedly, it’s not a bad question. The answer being no, of course.’ She shrugged. ‘Tinsel would snap with the force needed to kill a man placed on it. It isn’t designed to bear weight, after all.’

‘Speak the bloody obvious,’ Mansell muttered, earning a sharp elbow in the ribs from Kent next to him, and he turned and scowled.

Llewellyn ignored him. ‘But your victim didn’t die from strangulation. Instead, he died because of this.’ The assistant behind her reached for a silver dish on the side and passed it to her. Caroline then held it out to the team to look at. The dish glittered with the contents. ‘All of this tinsel was shoved down the victim’s throat and he choked to death. It was probably a last resort given strangulation didn’t work. So strangled? No. But was tinsel the weapon in question? Most certainly yes.’

* * *

 

Chandler sat back in his chair with an audible sigh. It was past nine- an hour he had long grown accustomed to seeing sat in the office alone. The difference, however, was that usually he had work to complete. Instead, tonight, he was sat with three files in front of him, three victims, and not a single link between them. No shared acquaintances. No shared locations. Not even similar in type. Absolutely nothing to go on, and time was ticking on. Quite noticeably in fact, he was starting to develop a migraine from the clock on the wall. With a groan, he leant forward again, reaching for his tiger balm.

‘Sir.’ A hesitant knock on the door as Kent caught sight of Chandler rubbing his temples slowly. The Inspector opened his eyes, to look polite rather than check who was knocking, he knew it would be Kent, the only officer still at work besides him, and he beckoned him into the office.

‘Do you have anything, Kent?’

‘Nothing of note, sir. I found some recent photos of the victims from their social media, and I’ve spoken to friends and relatives. None of them had any criminal history, no serious concerns from those who knew them. They were three ordinary people with very ordinary lives.’ He was aware as he spoke of the frustration growing on his Inspector’s face. When he had finished, Chandler tipped his head back to look upwards at the ceiling. After a moment or so, Kent asked softly, ‘Are you alright?’

Chandler looked back down again, meeting the wide eyed gaze of his officer with another sigh. ‘I have no links between the victims, no pattern to the killings, no consistent choice of weapon, not even a motive. The only reason these deaths are even connected is the use of some sort of Christmas decoration in each killing. I can’t tell if the killer loves Christmas, or hates it. And the longer I keep staring at these files, the more I can feel myself beginning to lose everything and I’m…’ He glanced up from the desk to see Kent still stood rigidly in the doorway. ‘I’m sorry. That isn’t what you expected to hear, is it?’

‘It’s ok, sir. I asked. I wanted the answer.’ Kent nodded, and watched as Chandler’s frown lightened ever so slightly. ‘Also, you do have us, sir. This case isn’t yours to solve entirely. It’s our job too.’

‘You’re beginning to sound like Miles.’

‘Skip speaks sense sometimes.’ Kent smiled, to be met with a small returning smile from the other man. ‘Just don’t tell him I said that.’

A wider smile from Chandler at that which, unknowingly, caused Kent’s heart to skip a fraction. After a minute or so of silence, Chandler stood up. ‘Do you fancy dinner?’

He felt his heart almost stop. ‘Sorry?’

‘I don’t think it’ll do either of us good to spend the whole night here hungry, not to mention we’ve done as much as we can for the moment.’ Chandler reached for his coat as he spoke. ‘I know a good place around the corner from here, it’s close enough to walk to if you want to leave your bike.’ Kent still hadn’t moved, something Chandler suddenly noticed. ‘That is, of course, only if you want to? If you don’t have other plans tonight? I just assumed because you’re here so late…’

‘No. No, that would be great. Yeah, dinner would be great.’

* * *

 

It was a nice restaurant. Kent couldn’t even remember passing the place before, so it was surprise that somewhere so nice could be so close to the station. Low lighting, clean edges, almost monochromatic décor asides from the occasional splash of colour from the lit candles on each table, it was a restaurant that could have been designed by the Inspector, Kent couldn’t help thinking. The only concern he had, as he scanned the menu sat opposite Chandler, was that he didn’t recognise a single dish.

His face must have given him away because Chandler smiled again at him as he looked up from his own menu. ‘You haven’t eaten Korean food before?’

He shrugged apologetically. ‘I tend to be a bit predictable with food. Plus it usually has to be available as a takeaway.’ He watched as Chandler’s eyes narrowed slightly. ‘I do eat properly too. The takeaways are a remnant of my university days really, and the difficulties of living with artists still convinced they are students.’

His eyes softened again, the crinkles at the sides causing Kent’s stomach to flip. ‘I recommend this then.’ He leant over to point to the dish, and Kent nodded. He let Chandler order, letting him even order drinks, watching him with a half-smile. The lighting did him favours- he looked less stressed, some of the newer wrinkles that had formed from their recent bout of cases were softened. Not that they mattered much to Kent. He liked seeing him though outside of the office, away from a crime scene, somewhere where they didn’t have to be Inspector and subordinate. _What must they look like to other people?_ He wondered. They could have been friends. They could have been on a date. The thought caused him to blush.

‘So what do you think?’

‘Sorry?’

‘The killer? Does he like or hate Christmas? What do the ornaments mean?’

He sat silent for a second. ‘It could be neither. He could just be an opportunist. Christmas time, lots of people have ornaments out. He could just be using whatever he can get hold of.’

‘That actually makes this case even harder to solve. Now we have a killer with no motive at all.’

‘Sorry, sir.’

‘It would make sense though,’ he said. Almost as an afterthought he added, ‘And Kent, it can be Joe now we’re outside of work.’

‘Em then. No-one calls me Emerson, unless I’m in trouble of course. Or it’s an elderly relative.’

Chandler chuckled. ‘And do you have many of those?’

‘More than you’d imagine.’

‘Is that what you’ll be doing over Christmas? Seeing family?’

The smile on Kent’s face faded with that, to be replaced with a small frown. ‘No. I’m staying in Whitechapel for Christmas actually. First year ever.’

‘Can I ask why?’

‘It’s nothing particularly interesting. It sounds a bit petty in all honesty.’

‘Let me judge.’

‘My sister’s taking Mansell home to meet the family for Christmas. I could go home still if I wanted but between staying here on my own, and spending a week in a house with Mansell, I know which one I’d rather do.’ Chandler was still looking at him, his eyes soft, and Kent flushed slightly under his gaze. ‘See, ridiculously petty.’

‘On the contrary, I completely agree. I don’t think I could spend a week with Mansell.’

The younger man smiled. ‘What about you, sir…Joe? Will you be doing anything?’

‘No,’ he answered, before realising how brusquely he’d spoken at the widening of Kent’s eyes. ‘No,’ he repeated again, more gently. ‘I haven’t spent Christmas with anyone in years. I usually spend the day at work, catching up on paperwork if there’s no active cases. The building’s empty, it helps me think.’

He stopped, as if just realising how personal his confession had just been. Kent stayed silent for a moment, unsure exactly how the Inspector needed him to respond. Eventually, he gave a small smile.

‘If it helps, you aren’t missing anything. Not unless you enjoy poorly written jokes, and very distant family members criticising your complete lack of love life.’

It felt like another personal confession, but it balanced out Chandler’s own, and he smiled again. ‘Complete lack?’

‘Totally absent.’ Kent returned the smile, only for the moment to be interrupted by the sharp ring of the Inspector’s phone. He answered it sharply, answering monosyllabically before nodding and hanging up.

‘There’s been another killing.’

* * *

 

Chandler offered to drive them both, and Kent had nodded possibly a little too enthusiastically. The drive however was silent, the blonde man staring ahead at the roads, busy with Christmas shoppers even at the late hour. Kent’s own gaze kept flicking between the lights outside, and the man beside him, his profile illuminated in the passing streetlights.

‘You’re single then, Emerson?’

The sound of his name from Chandler’s lips distracted him. ‘Sorry?’

‘You said about your absence of love life.’ Kent’s continued silence caused Chandler to flush slightly. ‘Sorry, that was personal. You don’t have to…’

‘Yeah, have been for years.’

‘Any reason?’

‘Are you trying to work out if there’s something weird about me?’ He joked, but succeeded only in making both men to redden- Chandler with embarrassment, Kent because of the rapid beating of his heart in his chest. He shrugged, doing his best impression of carelessness. ‘Just not particularly interested. My sister tried to set me up a few times, but it never worked. Started fine, but then they found out about the police work and the Ripper and the Krays and it’s all they want to talk about. I found it all a bit too morbid in the end. I need someone who understands really.’ It was Chandler now who was silent, and Kent felt himself blush harder. ‘Sorry, that really was too personal, sir. You can ignore all of that.’

‘It’s still just Joe.’ He glanced over, eyes soft. ‘And I did ask.’

‘Would it be too personal to ask you the same?’

‘Same as you.’ He looked back to the road as he spoke. ‘I need someone who understands.’

* * *

 

Two days later, the team was sat in front of the whiteboards as Chandler stood, arranging the various crime scene photographs neatly. As Miles walked into the room and caught his eye, the Inspector nodded and turned around to address the group.

‘Ok, so we now have five victims in total. The three individual victims we had previously, and now the couple found two days ago. Four different weapons have been used. Our first victim was strangled with a set of Christmas lights, our second was stabbed, our third was choked, and the two most recent were both assaulted with some sort of heavy object. Llewellyn has suggested a snow globe of sorts, and given there was a cracked one found at the scene, I’m inclined to agree.’

‘So five victims, all killed with some Christmas decoration or another,’ Miles said gruffly. ‘It’s enough to ruin anyone’s festive spirit this.’

‘I don’t know, skip, I have lots of festive spirit.’ Mansell grinned.

‘It just all happens to come from a bottle in your desk.’ Riley chuckled, causing Miles and Mansell to laugh.

‘We need to be sensible, everyone.’ Chandler frowned, the laughs on the rest of the team’s face dying as they looked at him. ‘There are only a few days before Christmas now, and we can’t say whether these killings will stop or not once the holiday is over. This could be only the beginning, or we could only have a few days left to actually catch the killer. Can we focus, please?’ As the team nodded silently, he sighed. ‘Thank you. Kent, have you found any connection between the victims?’

‘Nothing, sir. They don’t have any friends in common and they don’t fit any specific type. It’s possible they may have been to the same places before, but not enough to make that a solid lead.’

Kent couldn’t help but feel guilty at the look of disappointment on the Inspector’s face as he turned to the next person. ‘Riley, anything on door to door?’

‘The latest victims were quite popular in the neighbourhood, got along with a lot of people. No-one described any commotion before the murders themselves. They just seemed to be quite nice people.’

‘Mansell, any police records?’

‘Nothing at all.’

‘So we have nothing?’ Miles asked. ‘Five victims and nothing?’

‘I need some air.’

The team watched as Chandler turned and walked out of the incident room, rubbing his temples as he walked. They stood in silence for a minute, all eyes still on the doors their boss had just left through. As Miles caught a glance pass between Riley and Mansell, he stood up straight.

‘Right, nothing’s going to get done with you just standing around. Get back to work.’

* * *

 

The office was empty that night, Chandler having sent everyone home at the end of the shift. His light was still on though, and he was sat still hunched over the files on his desk. His fingers however were fiddling with the pens beside him, giving away his lack of focus.

‘Sir?’

He glanced up to meet Kent’s eyes with a weary nod. ‘Déjà vu, Kent.’

‘Are you alright?’

‘You keep asking me that, you really will turn into Miles.’ He tried to joke, but it fell flat in his tired tone. ‘I don’t know how to solve this case. I can’t see any way to connect these victims or these crimes.’

‘Maybe you need a break, sir.’

‘I don’t think there’s time.’

‘Then maybe you need a change of scene.’ He’d been preparing himself all day for this moment. Rehearsed the words in his head countless times. He took a deep breath. ‘We never actually got to eat the other day, and I was wondering if you wanted to discuss the case at my flat? My flatmates are out, and we could get food, and the change in location might help with the case…’

He’d forgotten every word he’d practised and Kent could feel himself growing redder as more and more words seemed to stumble out of his mouth. He was met, however, with a smile from the other man.

‘I’d like that, Kent. But only one question. Would you mind if we went to my flat instead? I’m just not so sure about…’

‘That’s fine. That’s great.’ He tried not to look too happy. He wasn’t sure he succeeded.

* * *

 

If someone had asked Kent to guess what Chandler’s flat looked like, his answer would have been completely accurate. Clean. Modern. Expensive, certainly. Kent felt underdressed sitting on the Inspector’s sofa, as if to simply exist in that flat required formalwear. He was grateful Chandler had suggested his flat instead of Kent’s. Even with the hours of tidying the night before, he could imagine the other man’s reaction at the state of some of his furniture. Whereas here, he looked natural, comfortable even.

‘Do you still believe the killer is opportunistic?’ Chandler sat down beside the officer, the closest they had ever been to each other. Kent felt his breath catch in his throat and then he flushed, embarrassed.

‘I think it makes the most sense.’

‘But why is he killing? If he’s opportunistic, why is he breaking into people’s homes in the first place?’

‘The obvious answer is stealing.’

‘But none of the victims was missing anything.’ Chandler opened the file on his lap, and Kent looked down, doing his best to ignore the part of him thinking about what was underneath the file. ‘Each victim still had their mobile, laptop, jewellery, wallets. Nothing was missing that would be worth stealing. So what’s the killer doing?’

The two men sat in silence for a moment or so. Kent opened one of the other files Chandler had brought home with him and he took out the photos. They were a mix of the crime scene photographs taken by SOCO, and some of the photographs he’d found on the victims’ social media profiles. One photo, smiling people stood proudly in front of their Christmas tree. One photo, two dead bodies, faces covered in blood. He felt a bit nauseous.

And then he stopped.

‘There’s something missing in this photo.’ He held two photos side by side as Chandler looked at him with a frown. Kent, however, was beginning to smile. ‘There’s something missing in this photo. Look.’ He held them over for the Inspector to see. ‘Look at the Christmas tree. In the photograph taken before the killings, there were more baubles. In the SOCO photograph, they’ve gone.’

‘So the killer took baubles?’

Kent ignored the doubt in the other man’s voice, too overwhelmed with his own discovery. ‘Why else would they have vanished like that? Look at this too.’ He took the file from Chandler’s lap, fingers momentarily brushing against his thigh, but he was too distracted to notice. ‘Look at these photographs here, from the second victim. Look at the Christmas tree. There’s almost no decoration on it. But look at the rest of the flat; it’s covered in Christmas stuff. There’s no way the victim would go to the effort of decorating their flat but not their tree. Baubles might have been taken from it by the killer.’

‘Why would the killer want to do that? It makes no sense. How would the killer even know these people had these decorations?’

‘If the killer sold them, he’d know.’ Kent turned back to the file, flicking through the paper until he found the bank statement he’d recovered earlier that day. ‘I noticed this when I was looking for connections between the victims. Two of them went to the same garden centre last month. They could have brought the baubles there. That could be how the killer knew them.’

‘That’s only two victims.’

‘The others could have paid in cash.’ Kent turned to look directly at Chandler, unable to keep the excitement from his face. ‘This is a connection, sir. Something that links the victims. This could be it.’

‘It’s tenuous at best, Kent.’

‘But surely it’s worth investigating?’

‘It could be nothing.’

‘It’s better than what we have, Joe,’ he said quietly, and he smiled as he saw Chandler’s eyes softening and he nodded.

‘Good job, Emerson.’ His voice was low, his gaze fully on Kent. The officer felt his eyes move from Joe’s, to his lips, and he leant in and kissed him.

It didn’t last long, only a couple of seconds, before Kent pulled away with wide eyes, his face red. Chandler was sat, completely still, his face blank. ‘Sir, I’m so sorry. I don’t know…I’m really sorry.’

‘I think you should go, Kent.’

He felt bitter tears spill down his cheeks all the way home.

* * *

 

It was an incessant beeping that woke him up. He thought at first it was in a dream, but it continued as he began to wake. Then he thought it was his alarm, but he could have sworn his alarm didn’t make that sound. Then, as he opened his eyes and was met with a sterile white, he realised exactly what it was.

‘Kent.’

‘Kent, you bloody fool.’

He blinked rapidly as he realised where he was. Hospital. Why was he in hospital? He became suddenly aware of a pain in his shoulder, and he realised that his right arm was in a sling. He then realised that Chandler was sat by his bed, a concerned frown on his face. Miles was stood behind him, also frowning, but with far less concern.

‘You bloody idiot, boy. What the hell did you think you were doing?’ Kent blinked again, trying to remember what Miles was talking about. At his blank expression, he sighed. ‘Do you even remember why you’re here?’

‘We went after the suspect.’

‘You went after the suspect, against all advice and ignoring all instructions and procedures,’ Chandler said, his voice emotionless, all concern seemingly vanished at the sight of Kent awake. ‘You then proceeded to tackle him, dislocating your shoulder and giving yourself concussion in the process.’

‘Ah.’

‘Your behaviour endangered yourself, endangered the suspect, and put the whole investigation in jeopardy. Not to mention you are now going to have to take time off, meaning the team will be short staffed just as we approach New Year, when what we really need is everyone available.’ Kent felt his stomach drop as he listened to Chandler speaking, his face no longer even neutral, instead far more angry. ‘I expected better from you, Kent. Especially after so long in this team. I certainly don’t expect such ridiculous and reckless behaviour from you.’

‘I’m sorry, sir.’

‘I don’t understand what you expect that to achieve…’

‘Right.’ Miles interrupted, placing a hand on Chandler’s shoulder to silence him. ‘I think the boy’s had enough now. It’s not like he did too well out of it.’

‘He risked the entirety of the investigation.’

‘And he certainly won’t do it again, looking at him now. Look, let me go and get a couple of teas and we can calm down.’

Kent watched from his bed as Miles left the room, and he met Chandler’s eyes, embarrassed. ‘I’m really sorry, sir. I didn’t mean to…I just wanted to…’

‘It’s ok, Kent,’ Chandler’s said gently. ‘I said all of that just to get rid of Miles. I’m sorry for saying it all. You saved the investigation. Thanks to you, we actually managed to bring in the suspect alive.’

‘Oh.’ Kent felt himself frown. ‘Thank you then, sir.’

‘Turns out from interviews you were right about the baubles too. He was part of a group using them to help transport cocaine. They got mixed in with other baubles in the store and accidentally sold; he was trying to reclaim them. Thanks to his arrest, we can track down the rest of the group too. You did well. You should be proud.’

‘Thank you.’ He nodded, glancing over at the door. ‘Why could you not just say all that in front of sarge?’

‘Because we need to talk about something else, Ke…Emerson.’

Kent felt his mouth grow dry. ‘We don’t have to, sir. It doesn’t matter…’

Chandler took a deep breath before meeting the other man’s eyes again. ‘You kissed me.’

‘I promise it won’t happen again. It was stupid. I just got carried away. If you can forget it…’

‘I didn’t react the way I should have.’ A pause. ‘I didn’t react the way I wanted to. I didn’t want to ask you to go.’

‘Why did you?’

‘I panicked. It wasn’t what I wanted to do.’

‘How did you want to react?’ He was sure his heart was pounding so hard he could hear it. It only increased as Chandler reached out and took his hand in his own gently.

‘I wanted to do this. And this.’ He stood up, and bent down to kiss Kent lightly on the lips. Kent let go of Chandler’s hand to place it gently on the back of his head, deepening the kiss. At the sound of approaching footsteps, Chandler broke away to sit back down.

‘Right, they didn’t have any green tea, so I had to get you both average builders’ brew. It doesn’t look great, but it is hospital tea so I don’t think you can complain.’ Miles looked up from the cups to see the two men smiling widely. ‘Ah, so you boys made up whilst I was gone. Good.’ He handed the two cups over and picked up his jacket from the back of a chair. ‘Now, if you’ll excuse me, it is Christmas Eve and now I know his idiot is fine, I do have family to see. Merry Christmas, Joe. Merry Christmas, Kent.’

‘Merry Christmas, skip.’

They sat in silence for a while after Miles left, Chandler holding Kent’s hand softly. Kent didn’t want to move, afraid that even breathing too heavily could make it all disappear. Eventually however, he had to shift in the bed, wincing at the pain in his shoulder.

‘Well, Emerson, I’ve been thinking.’ Chandler eventually said. ‘About your shoulder. You’ll need to wear the sling for the next couple of days, and you might find certain activities difficult.’

‘So I’m on paperwork duty, I’m assuming?’

‘I was thinking more that you might need more help than that.’ He took another deep breath. ‘I was wondering whether you want to spend Christmas Day with me tomorrow. I can drive you to your flat tonight, pick you up some clothes, and you can stay at mine. If only just to help you while you…’

‘Yes.’ Kent felt himself smile again, to be met with a returned smile from the Inspector. ‘I would love to spend Christmas Day with you, Joe. For whatever reason.’

‘I don’t have much in way of Christmas.’

‘You have you, and that’s all I care about.’


End file.
